


Don't Leave Me

by syriala



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional, Established Relationship, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: “Shit you're heavy,” Stiles panted as he brought them into an upright position.“I'm all muscle,” Peter slurred and Stiles huffed, a worried note to it.“You're 50% stubbornness and 50% snark and 100% refusal to die. You shouldn't be this heavy,” he declared and continued to drag Peter along the hallway.





	Don't Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Areiton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/gifts).



> This is for areiton because I love her and don't want her to be sad.

“Shit you're heavy,” Stiles panted as he brought them into an upright position.   
  
“I'm all muscle,” Peter slurred and Stiles huffed, a worried note to it.   
  
“You're 50% stubbornness and 50% snark and 100% refusal to die. You shouldn't be this heavy,” he declared and continued to drag Peter along the hallway.   
  
“Given that that makes more than 100% I think I should be exactly this heavy,” Peter panted and he could almost feel Stiles’ eyeroll.   
  
“Oh great you're dying and can't walk but you're still able to do math,” Stiles snarked at him.

“I'm not dying and since you clearly can't do basic math, one of us has to,” Peter said and then hissed when pain laced through his side as Stiles propped him up at the wall to open the apartment door.

“Oh my god, do you ever just shut up?” Stiles asked as he slung his arm back around Peter's middle to support his way into the apartment.

“You're one to talk,” Peter bit out. “I distinctly remember you still talking when you nearly died of exposure last November,” Peter told him and then his breath caught when Stiles unceremoniously dumped him on the bed.

It was a struggle to stay in an upright position but Peter knew that if he laid down right now things would only be more difficult.

Still, it took him some time to get his breath back and when he looked at Stiles once no more spots danced in his vision his breath caught for an entirely different reason.

Stiles was pale, his eyes big and dark, his shoulders a tense line and it was only now that Peter saw the minute shaking of his hands.

“Stiles,” Peter muttered and parted his legs to make space for Stiles who he drew closer by the hem of his shirt. “Sweetheart, I'm okay,” Peter promised him.

Stiles curled against his chest, hiding his face and Peter could feel him shake all over.

“But you weren't,” he said and Peter could hear the hitch in his breath. “And you could've been--there was so much blood. For a moment I thought--,” he trailed off there and Peter pulled him impossibly closer.

“You know I'm much harder to kill than that,” he gently told him and Stiles let out a wet laugh.

“I also thought you were much cleverer than that,” Stiles said and pulled back, gaze searching Peter's face. “Why the hell would you even take such a hit? And for Scott no less. You don't even care about him.”

“No, I don't,” Peter softly said. “But you do, my heart.”

Stiles stared at him, clearly taken by surprise by that. He blinked once and it was like he used that motion to reboot because a second later he fisted his hands in Peter's shirt and shook him.

“Never, ever do that again!” he yelled at him. 

“But Scott--” Peter started but Stiles didn't even let him finish.

“I don't care. You never do something like this again. If you'd died--if I'd lost you--” Stiles said and Peter could tell that he was dangerously close to a panic attack.

He covered the hands still fisted in his shirt with his, thumbs stroking soothingly up and down the back of Stiles’ hands.

“I wouldn't know--I couldn't,” Stiles choked out and Peter pulled him close to rest their foreheads together.

“I would always protect those you love, darling, because I love you and couldn't bear to see you sad.”

“Then protect yourself, goddamit,” Stiles snapped at him. 

“Stiles, if it was your father--” Peter started and Stiles shook his head.

“No, don't. Choosing between you--I couldn't,” Stiles lowly told him and Peter pulled him close again when he heard that.

He had never doubted Stiles’ love for him, because Stiles wouldn't be with him if he didn't felt that way, but this. Stiles putting him on equal footing with his father. This was huge and it would be scary if Peter didn't love his wonderful, wondrous boy so much.

“I love you so much,” Stiles echoed his thoughts and in this moment Peter decided that this was it for him.

He would never let Stiles go. 

“I love you too, my heart,” Peter said and then scooted back on the bed, until he could lean against the headboard.

He had dragged Stiles with him and Stiles curled up small against his uninjured side, neatly tucked against Peter's body, fitting in a way that no one had before.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” Stiles muttered, but he didn't seem particularly eager to get up and move.

“In a second, sweetheart. Right now we need to stay like this so I can hold you and you can make sure I'm still alive,” Peter decidedly said and Stiles huffed, but it was more content than annoyed.

This, right now, was more important and everything they needed.

 


End file.
